Cloak and Dagger
by Whitescale
Summary: The city of Baltimare, blessed by an unusually low crime rate even when what everypony calls "Humans" with a long history of violence appeared from no-where. A year and a few months later, some mare was found dead here soon followed by another and another It's up to Greyscale, an Equestrian detective and a seasoned human transfer, Jacob Mark to pull the murder off the streets befor
1. Author's note

Before I start though, let me inform you that the version of this story on this site should be considered as a BETA.

For the latest edits, changes and stuff go here instead, on Fimfiction: story/188963/2/cloaks-and-daggers/chapter-1

Thanks, and give it some likes there!


	2. Prologue

_The Summer Sun Celebration 20-6-1004 H.C.M.R 2300 hrs_

The Summer Sun Celebration was as usual, chaotic as hell. The DJ was blaring some kind of crazy musicver the sound system, making any attempts of communicating to anypony more than a meter away futile.

But it also had an unexpected advantage: any lovestruck couple looking forward to _having fun_ could discuss their plans in secret, and two ponies were doing exactly that.

"Soo, where shall we go?" The stallion asked, looking at his pretty as hell mare friend, his voice barely audible over the heavy bass.

"I don't know!" she replied, bobbing her to the beat. After a minute or so of thinking, the stallion had an idea.

"Come!" he said, leading her to the portable restrooms. It took some time for them , due to the fact that they were in the centre of the party place meaning they both had to plough through the hundreds of ponies partying. At least the effort was worth it, the Stallion thought to himself. The toilets was located near a lightly forested area, but not too far away. As long as nopony was too curious or had an urgent need to relieve herself, the place offered more than enough privacy.

"Well then, shall we?" The mare asked rhetorically, since the answer was obviously a yes. Throwing the door open, she stepped inside, before realizing what she had just discovered.

"Oh my god." she muttered in native equestrian, before passing out.


	3. Chapter 1

"Oi! Grayscale!" Somepony shouted into my Office a little too loudly. _Another dammed cat stuck in a tree I bet._ I thought to myself as I made myself wake up.

Grumbling, I forced myself to look at The Calendar perched on my desktop with bleary eyes. June the Twentieth, Year 1004 of Her Celestial Majesty's Reign it read, which was also the day before the annual Summer Sun Celebration, or what I preferred to think as the "We defeated Nightmare Moon with Rainbows!" Celebration.

Frowning, since I had decided to sleep just a few hours earlier, I then directed my gaze towards the office clock on the wall. Unlike the rest of the ageing furniture inside the Department, the Clock was new, made from some kind of stuff painted Red-Black as thin as paper, and obtained from what the humans called a "Shopping Mall"- basically a market place inside a huge building pumped full of air about the same temperature as from Cloudsdale. The Weird material itself was made from what they called "Plastic"-stronger than wood, and presumably lighter than it too, made from some kind of black, gooey stuff that they called "Oil".

Speaking of which, it was barely a year ago since they, the "Humans" showed up from out of nowhere and they were already a major supplier of almost everything. Pens, Clocks, Etc. You name it, they have it, along with some weird stuff that displays moving pictures. One of the more interesting stuff was furniture packed inside boxes like those Legos everypony had as a foal, and you had to build them yourself. I had a field day assembling them for a school once, since the bits and pieces were too small for hooves to properly grab.

Anyway, the only reason why I was still staring at the clock was that the time it displayed in dots of red was "00:01". Which meant two things. Firstly, I had to cross out yesterday's date. Secondly, it was still the Summer Sun Celebration. Unusual for me since everypony was either out partying in the setting sun or trying to get some sleep, with me falling into the latter. I never liked Summer Sun Parties. "Too loud." I had told my Sister and yet she still _insists_ on giving me tickets to them yearly. And yearly, I just give them away to homeless ponies.

"What? You better give me a good reason for waking me up. Otherwise you'll have to suffer my wrath." I replied, with a hint of hostility. I wasn't always like this, but 10 years after I joined the Baltimare Police Department, I found my enthusiasm dropping more each year. I had envisioned the job as an investigator to be full of excitement and adventure like a Daring Do book, but it seems I joined in the wrong state. Almost 25 years old and not a single major or minor crime had happened in this town for me to solve, or anywhere else near here. _Excluding Discord and that giant monkey thing that appeared a few years back, since that wasn't considered a crime. More like in the category of "Divine Chaos."_

"Well, look alive, Ma'am. Dispatch just came through with a 10-35 Downtown." Now, that caught my attention.

"You sure? Not 10-56 or something?" I asked for confirmation. 35 was the 10-code for homicide the last time I had bothered to check, whereas a 10-56 involved the usual drunk pony.

"Eeyup." The voice replied. Lifting up my head, the source was from a constable, a Stallion named Lawful Hooves. One of the rather okay ponies around. We share the occasional Doughnut or Coffee together on lunch break.

"So Hooves, you're telling me there's a Major Crime?" I asked, suppressing my true emotions from showing up. Although my exterior expression was the usual, trademark bored expression I wore while on duty, in my mind, I was going crazy. Finally something interesting had shown up, after eight years of waiting.

"Eeyup." He said, yet again.

"Well then mien freund . Take me with you." I replied, getting up. First things first, I had to find my Badge and ID. Thankfully, they were still sitting in the drawer located underneath my desk, covered by a thin layer of dust. Hurriedly looping the lanyard around my neck, I left my desk, my heart full of excitement.

I went inside what the Humans had called a "Car", some kind of metal Wagon capable of self-locomotion and weighed 40 tonnes. Surprisingly, the driver wasn't a pony, but was instead a white human, wearing what looked similar to a Police Officer's uniform with what seemed like white stars in a blue rectangle, surrounded by red and white stripes.

Creepily, much of their daily lives seemed to mirror around ours. Like how their music classification system was exactly the same as ours, how our time system was exactly on par with theirs, how both species somehow spoke Equestrian, although they call it English. Something which still confuses me to this day since I've once read in a history book that the English were another merry bunch of Humans from an island called the United Kingdom.

"So white guy with stripes and stars, are you like with the police or something?" I had inquired on the way. The human seemed surprised, probably because I had called him a "White". That same history book had also cautioned ponies from calling humans from their skin colour as it was considered Racist. Another strange thing that I can't understand, since everypony calls each other by either their coat colour or mane colour.

"Yes, I'm with the Police, just assigned to another Unit. I'm Jacob Mark. American. What about you?"

"Greyscale, obviously. You would think there's no other name more fitting than that." I replied sarcastically. Exactly what my parents had replied after I asked them why, with me being grey and all.

After that, we each went back into our own thoughts. Mine were mostly on what would I find there, since 10-35 could be anything from Arson to Crazy-Person/Pony trying to kill someone. In the end, I decided that it was better to just be patient than to let my thoughts run wild.

~ . ~

We arrived at the Crime scene a little earlier than I had expected, since Downtown was more than five Kilometres away. Not exactly the ideal place for the city's central law enforcement station, which I blame the nobles in Canterlot for since the price of land downtown was too expensive. Jacob must have been driving at five times the speed limit, sirens blaring and all.

Looking around, I realized that I was probably the only pony cop inside here. _Now that's bad._ I thought._ If it was brawling or something a couple of our guys could have handled this._ Also, there were quite a lot of Black cars. Apparently Humans working for the Government have a rather unhealthy obsession with the colour Black. There was also a white and red and squarish car that they called an "ambulance" too, but the crew was not doing anything. They were just standing around, pale faced._Okay. That's not good._

The exact location of interest was a light blue free-standing portable toilet, larger than the human sized ones in order to accommodate a pony better, cordoned off by police tape placed roughly at the height of my face, obviously to prevent any human or pony to go in. What caught my attention was that there was an unusually large amount of flies surrounding it, buzzing about. An there was this smell. Something in-between sweet and disgusting. Just taking a breath made me feel like throwing up. _Maybe hoping for a case wasn't such a good thing after all._ I thought as I ducked under the flimsy barrier.

Before they let me in however, I had to wear all sorts of gear. A face mask, some kind of suit that covered my entire body from head to flank and took ten minutes to wear, followed by a plastic bag with an elastic opening to stuff my tail in. I must have looked like some demon by the time I had finished. Probably to prevent my fur or feathers or hooves from contaminating the scene any further I decided, as I headed for the entrance.

I was accompanied by two humans, wearing their equivalent of the plastic suit that I had. "Fun house of horrors eh?" I joked to myself. To my surprise, they actually replied back to me.

"You bet. M.E did a count, and they came up with 21 stab wounds to the body. Vic must have been already dead by the first ten." The one on my left said, looking down at me.

"Heh. With the amount of blood in there? It's a wonder no-one had noticed the smell for three hours. Apparently it wasn't until some love-struck couple had decided to well, go somewhere private found her." The other guy replied. "The Stallion fainted on sight, while his marefriend ran off to get help. Which brings the us here, where you come in. I bet Sam ten bucks that you'll faint."

"Oh shut up man! We're here to do a job, not laugh at some other species' misery." The human named Sam shot back as he opened the door. _Wow. Such consideration for my feelings._ I thought sarcastically.

Stepping through the gap, the interior was dimly lit by a single economy light bulb about as bright as a candle. Evolution however, made the light seem bright enough for me to clearly see what was inside. There was a pony, slumped against a corner that was covered by what I presumed to be black-red paint. _No wait. That's blood._ I thought, after realizing that the pattern was weird. A closer look at the pony's snout marked it as a mare.

Other than the face, the mare's body was covered by a white sheet, presumably to cover up the "twenty-one stab wounds" inflicted on her. Human crime scenes lacked the sheet so I guessed correctly that it was to prevent anypony else from fainting at whatever gruesomeness that it hid.

"Very well then Detective Pony. Let's get to work." Sam's buddy said, a bit too cheerily for my liking.


	4. Chapter 2

It took me some time before I realized that I was nothing more than a prop to tell the world about Humans and Equestrians co-operating together, since other than helping them throw the sheet out of the stall, Sam and his friend ignored me completely, leaving me to my own devices.

I stuck around for awhile, watching them use a overly-sized camera before finally deciding that the stench of death was too much for me to handle. Mumbling a half-true excuse about needing to go to the "Filly's room", I began backing out of the door.

That was when I realized from my new viewpoint that something was wrong:

Like the blood spatter, literally screaming at me that the victim wasn't killed here, but _dumped here instead._

You see, death by stabbing usually results in a very, **_very_ **messy crime scene, with blood literally everywhere on the walls, since this was after all, a confined space. Instead, the adjacent walls were almost clean. It looked more like somepony threw the blood onto the wall first, then placed the body inside. But I quickly saved that for later once I realized that I was sweating so much, I was literally bathing in it...and the fact that I was having trouble keeping my stomach acids inside my stomach.

Stepping outside the cubicle, I ripped the face mask off my muzzle, stretching my jaws before proceeding to take a deep breath of the cool night air. "Much better..." I muttered, quickly shedding the plastic suit, followed by the tail bag-thing.

Making sure that I wasn't about to throw up any more, I dumped the items into a yellow waste bin marked "biohazard", before proceeding to do a rough sweep of the area. Mostly to kill time and possible paperwork for "careless investigation." Unsurprisingly, it produced no objects worthy of my interest, other than a stray bit that somepony dropped. (And no, I did not take it.)

That being done, I walked back towards the grass patch where Jacob had last parked his car. True, I could have flown there, but there wasn't any reason to rush. It was a murder case, plain and simple, and after seeing what the humans could do, I decided that I would be really happy to return to my old schedule.

_At least cats don't smell as bad as a dead pony. Not even the stray ones._ I thought, as I climbed onto the back seats.

~.~

"Before you go Greyscale, I'll just let you know, if you need anything, just call." Jacob said, handing me a slip of paper with a Downtown code as he followed me to the entrance of the station. Seeing that I had nothing more to say, he said goodbye and departed for his car.

Sitting down, I waved goodbye to the white car-thing as it left, before tucking the paper in between my left wing's-feathers. It might come in handy in the long run, but since I was more than happy to let the humans do the case, it'll have to wait. Pushing open the ornate glass and marble door, I stepped back into the lobby. There was another plastic clock right smack in the middle on the wall behind the reception desk, below the pony-sized Baltimare Police crest. By now, it was already almost daybreak. Deciding that sleep was useless in every other aspect than messing up my internal clock, I headed back to my office.

There was a brown-paper parcel perched on the edge of my hand-me down plywood desk, roughly the size of my face. Attached to the side of it was a note. I recognised the hoof-writing as that of my sister's. Working in a lofty position in the Cloudsdale Weather Factory, she easily earned around five, six times of my meagre thirty-bits-a-month salary. (That was the reason why she was always sending me tickets to the Summer Sun Celebration.)

_Now what? A gold block?_ I asked myself as I read the note. There was next to no information on it, except for the four words: "Hope you enjoy this!", followed by her signature. Smiling, I tore the wrapping apart. Usually whenever Aqua sends gifts with extremely vague descriptions, it's something really crazy.

There was a white box with a transparent sitting inside the wrapping, with what seemed to be a pair of goggles that I've never seen before. Two dull-grey hemispheres, secured by a thin silver band lay flat inside there. One of the spheres had what seemed to be a bent stick and a piece of cotton attached onto it.

"Humph." I held up the box towards the window. _What am I supposed to do with this? Eat it? WHY IS IT NOT GOLD?! _Frowning, and with my deduction skills not telling me, I opened the box up.

Holding up the thing, it took me a while to finally figure out that the strange metal object was some kind of visor, abet missing the visor. _Well, I'll just put it o-_

"Activating HMD." A disembodied voice said into my ear, making me jump into the air. Realizing that it was coming from nothing other than the visor, I slowly set myself down back into the chair.

"Visor, get me Jacob Mark." I commanded while grinning from ear to ear. As much as I doubted Human technology, the HMD proved itself to be worthy of my liking. I mean, hay. I could send Mail to my sister free of charge at the speed of light or something. Sure, it'll be irritating if somepony sent me work that I don't want through the system, since I can't say I've never received it, but that's just a minor setback.

While waiting for the system to connect to something called the why-five system, I busied myself with reviewing through the events of the morning back through the head. As much as I tried, my conscience simply wouldn't let me forget about the murder. Mostly because of me letting my imagination wild, I somehow arrived upon the thought that the killer was somewhere calmly planning his next move. Now, thanks to nopony but myself, my initial plan to resume cat-saving was completely squashed.

Just as I was about to disconnect, a holographic window popped out in front of me accompanied by a single, rather pleasant sounding ding. It stayed black for about a second or so, before a silhouette of a phone showed up. Had anypony been watching me right now, they would probably have thought that I've gone mental, talking to the air. Other than the translucent holographic-blue band surrounding my eyes, there would be no sign of the virtual window that just popped out in front of my muzzle.

"Hello Jacob." I said as I closed the virtual window. "It's Greyscale."

"Yeah, I know. I've just reached my post. What's the problem?" He asked, sounding genuinely concerned. If not for the fact that we were of different species, I probably would have asked him out for dinner.

"Well, about the case..." I asked, contemplating on how to phrase the request. "You know when you said that you could, quote, 'hook me up with some buddies', can you get me a copy of the files on what they've found so far?" Idly twirling a dead feather of mine in my right hoof, I waited for his answer.

"About that..." He said, in a tone that made me instantly worried.

"We just got a order to shut the whole thing down."


	5. Chapter 3

p style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"The conversation with Jacob had turned into a rather heated debate about the different justice systems, with the both of us taking the side of our own species. The debate ended when Lawful went into my room without a noise and tapped me on the wingblade. Judging from the look on his face, I could tell that whatever it was, it was not going to be good./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""We've got another dead one ma'am." He said. "Near dumpster in between 51st street and Golden Grain Corn Mill."/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Bucking hell," I muttered. "Somepony's trying to set the Equestrian record for murder."/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""There's an interesting bit though-" he paused momentarily, consulting his data processor Mark-4 strapped to his hoof before continuing. "Chè-chè just checked in: she thinks that this one was killed much earlier."/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;" -_-_-_-_-_-/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"I decided against asking Jacob to drive me to Golden Grain even if it meant a 30 minute flight. I was pissed, and I needed the time to cool down. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;"Never go to a crime scene if your mind is not focused,/em the academy instructors drilled into us./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"I was pretty familiar with the area around Golden Grain and 51st Street before the corn mill was built. It used to be a big park, isolated from the busy port city. Mom used to take me and my sis there every weekend when we were fillies and have a picnic among the flower garden, before some corn obsessed jerk decided that Baltimare should have less parks and more factories instead. Hell, I don't even like corn chips./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"Luna's moon was shining oh-so-brightly, even though it was barely twelve in the afternoon. Another good reason that I disliked the Summer Sun Celebration, since it basically screws up everypony's internal clock. (Only reason for me to like it was that the whole department got a day off.) Thanks to that though, I was able to locate the scene of the crime aerially with relative ease, since the whole alley was lit up like a landing zone in Cloudsdale./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"Landing next to a wooden blue and white departmental mortuary wagon, I spotted Chè-chè, our forensic technician/technology expert in a labcoat behind a barrier erected to keep journalists and news reporters at bay, furiously jabbing away at her data processor with a stylus. She was sporting her usual disguise: a light green unicorn with a pale yellow mane./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"To be honest, when I first met her, I thought that she had some kind of imaginary spy adventure going on in her head. It took her almost a week to get it (painfully) through my head that although the Princesses had signed a peace treaty with the changelings a couple of years ago, most ponies were still uncomfortable conversing with an insectoid creature whose queen had decided to trash Canterlot for fun when she had ran out of gum. (Yes,em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;"gum/em.) /p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Sup' Che," I greeted as I came up behind her." Enjoying the after-ning much?"/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Ahh, Grey! What a wonderful time for you to join us!" She replied in a half joking tone, motioning for me to join her. "I was just getting acquainted with our friend over here. Judging from the body temperature and rigor, I'd say he's been dead at least for 24 hours. Oh! And before I forget, don't stare at the spotlights unless you want to go blind! I set them to the maximum brightness."/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"Smiling at her humor, I looked at the body, half-expecting to see some sort of bloody display of severed limbs, liters of blood and other bodily substances. Instead, I was greeted by the sight of a human male lying in a dried splotch of something against a faded-green dumpster that reeked. There was no obvious sign of stabbing like the previous one, nor a giant gaping hole in his body./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Soo... what are we looking for exactly?" I asked her./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Nothing!" She replied with an oddly excited voice. I felt my left eye twitch in response. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;"Has she been spending too much time on her data processor? Somepony said that playing too much Frogger screws up your brain./em/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Alright! I was kidding! It's not actually nothing." Chè groaned upon seeing my face. "See that teeny-tiny mark?" She asked, magiking her stylus above what I presumed was the human's neck. A closer inspection of that area yielded a small red spot, barely visible on his skin./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Looks like a needle mark. Looks like somepony, sorry- took too much drugs." I muttered, ignoring the sudden thought of poorly designed anti-drug abuse posters. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;""Don't do drugs foals!"/em/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Yes and no in this case Grey. I'm pretty sure for now that this fella here died from some sort of poisoning. Nopony with half a brain would inject that stuff into their bodies unless they were suicidal or just plain stupid."/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""And how would you know that my changeling friend?" I asked, prodding the dead body's arms with my baton, noticing red marks on his wrists./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Firstly, scans indicate heart failure of somesort." She said, raising her Mark-4 to my face. "Secondly, he's dead. Not that it really matters. Finally, there's the puddle of dried puke he's lying in." em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;"So that was what the yellowish goop that the human was lying in. Dammit brain! You're getting slow./em "Although I need to run a full toxicology test on him to be sure./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"Next up, while you were on your way, I've read the preliminary autopsy report on the first, or chronologically second victim. Exactly twenty-five stab wounds, plus blunt force trauma to the head. Here: I'll send it to your Mark-6T." A few seconds later, a message popped up on the holographic screen:/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;"[!New file received!]/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Interesting point to note here is that the vic has no blood left in her body." She said as I skimmed the autopsy report of Swift Gains. Grizzly, since the mare was shaved clean of her fur, leaving a pale white body full of holes and stitches./p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""Let me guess- killer drained her body and all of it was splashed onto the wall right?" I asked, smiling at my own cleverness. em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box;"I was right! She was dumped there!/em/p  
p class="double" style="margin: 1.5em 0px 0px; padding: 0px; box-sizing: border-box; border: 0px; font-size: 18px; font-family: serif; color: #333333; line-height: 31.68000030517578px; text-align: justify;""No."/p 


End file.
